"I'll go get him," Dona Alicia said, and stood up and walked into the house.
Castillo looked at Lopez.
"All right, gringo," Fernando said, "I'll ride the right seat down there and back. But that's it. And that presumes I can be back before Maria comes back from Cancun."
"I didn't ask, Fernando," Castillo said.
"You knew if you asked, I'd tell you to go to hell," Fernando said. "I told you I'm getting too old to play James Bond with you guys."
"Fernando going would solve the problem of having to find another pilot," Jake Torine said. "All we're going to do is drop off Munz and the others with the radios, and come right back. So thanks, Fernando."
"He should be thanking us for the privilege of flying our airplane," Castillo said.
Fernando gave Castillo the finger.
"How do I get back here to pick up the Lear?" Fernando asked.
"Charley," McGuire asked, "what if I stay here, take your grandmother and the Munzes to San Antonio, say, tomorrow, and get things set up there? That'd probably reassure Munz. By the time I have things set up, Jake and Fernando will be back from Buenos Aires. So you send a plane to pick me up, it brings Fernando here, and then picks me up in San Antonio? That'd work."
Castillo considered the suggestion and nodded. "Okay. Then that's what we do."
"God, I feel sorry for them," Castillo said, nodding discreetly at the wife and young daughters of Alfredo Munz, who had just watched Munz get into the Gulfstream III.
"I probably shouldn't tell you this," Dona Alicia said, "but you're the one I feel sorry for."
"Why?"
"Everybody has somebody but you."
"Hey, Abuela. I have you."
"I'm your grandmother. You share me with Fernando and his family."
"You're all I need," Castillo said.
She would not give up.
"Colonel Munz has his family. Mr. McGuire has his family. Colonel Torine has his family. You don't even have a dog."
"If it will make you happy, I'll get a dog."
Now why the hell did I say that?
What the hell would I do with a dog?
The right engine of the Gulfstream began to whine.
Castillo placed his hands gently on Dona Alicia's arms, kissed her on both cheeks, and went up the stair door.
[FIVE] 7200 West Boulevard Drive
Alexandria, Virginia 2340 3 September 2005 "We're home, Colonel," the Secret Service driver of the Yukon said, gently pushing Castillo's shoulder.
Castillo's head jerked up. For a moment he was confused, and then he knew where he was.
In the front seat of the Yukon, in the basement of the house.
"How long was I out?" he asked.
"You dozed off before we were out of the airport."
"You ever hear that only people with nothing on their conscience can go to sleep with no difficulty?"
The Secret Service agent chuckled.
"So what happens now?" Castillo asked.
"There's my relief," the Secret Service agent said, pointing to a man walking up to the Yukon. "I go off at midnight, in twenty minutes."
Max was walking to one side of the man, and looking at the truck.
"In that case, can I offer you a nightcap?" Castillo offered. "I'm about to have one. Which I richly deserve. This has been one hell of a day."
He sensed reluctance on the part of the Secret Service agent.
"If you have moral scruples against Demon Rum, then okay. Otherwise, consider that an order. I always feel depraved when I drink alone."
"I could use a little nip."
"Then come along."
Castillo's door opened as he reached for the handle.
"Good evening, sir," the Secret Service agent who had walked up to the Denali said.
Max effortlessly stood on his rear paws and put his forepaws on Castillo's legs.
"How are you, pal?" he asked, and scratched Max's ears.
Max sat down on his haunches.
"I see you've made a pal of Max," Castillo said to the Secret Service agent.
"He's been meeting every car that's come in here," the Secret Service agent said. "Obviously waiting for you. Until now, he's just taken a look and gone back upstairs."
"I probably smell like hamburger," Castillo said, and then asked: "You're going to be here all night? What did you do wrong?"
The Secret Service agent chuckled.
"Not to go any farther?"
Castillo nodded.
"We bid for the duty. This looked like a much better deal than spending all night sitting in the truck in the White House parking lot. Seniority counts, and I won."
"Well, the only person who can get me out of here tonight is the President, and I heard on the radio that he's on the Gulf Coast looking at hurricane damage, so why don't you find an empty bedroom and catch some sleep?"
"Maybe later, Colonel. Thank you."
"I have to be at the Nebraska Avenue Complex at eight. Is that going to screw up your getting relieved?"
"No, sir. If you're sure about that, I'll have my relief meet me there."
"Why don't you do that?"
He nodded.
The stairway from the garage led into the kitchen, and there was a door from the kitchen to the living room. When Castillo got close to it, Max brushed past him and pushed it open. Castillo motioned for the Denali driver to follow him. When he got inside, he was surprised to see Edgar Delchamps and a somewhat frumpy man Delchamps's age whom he didn't recognize. They were sitting in the leather chairs and couch around the battered coffee table, working on a bottle of Famous Grouse.
"Oh, Edgar, I'm touched," Castillo said. "You waited up for me!"
Neither man seemed amused.
"We need to talk, Ace," Delchamps said.
"Will it wait until we get a drink?"
"Yeah, but he'll have to drink his someplace else," Delchamps said, then looked at the Secret Service agent and added, "Nothing personal."
"Not a problem, sir. And I can pass on the drink."
"Have the drink," Castillo ordered.
Not another word was said until Castillo had poured two drinks, given one to the Secret Service agent, who downed it, then said, "Ah. Thank you, sir. And good evening, gentlemen."
He left the living room, closing the door behind him.
"Say hello to Milton Weiss, Ace," Delchamps said. "He and I go back a long way."
When they shook hands, Weiss's eyes were cold and penetrating. Castillo was reminded of the first time he'd met Aleksandr Pevsner. He wondered now-as he had then-whether the look in the eyes was natural, or whether it had been cultivated.
When you get that look, you know damned well you're really being examined.
Max walked up to Castillo and rubbed his head against Castillo's leg. Castillo scratched Max's ears and looked at Delchamps.
"And where is the master of this beast?"
"In the Monica Lewinsky Motel," Delchamps said.
"What?"
"Okay, Ace," Delchamps said, tolerating him. "Kocian consulted a canine gynecologist who confirmed that Madchen is in the family way. Which came as no surprise to those of us who watched the happy couple couple happily in the garden of the safe house for hours at a time.
"Said canine gynecologist offered his professional opinion that the lovers should now be separated, as Max cannot seem to grasp that his role in the procreation of his species is no longer required, and that Madchen is very likely going to take large pieces out of him if he continues to try to force his now unwanted attentions on her. How to do that?
"Kocian-having been advised by Miller that your suite in the Monica Lewinsky is empty but paid for through the end of the month-decided that he had enough of bucolic suburban life and had Miller take him and Madchen to the Mayflower, leaving Max here, his fate to be decided later."
"Jesus Christ!" Castillo said.
"To answer your unspoken question: Yes, Herr Kocian is being sat upon. Miller will stay with him until we get the Secret Service in place. Have you any further questions, Colonel, or can we get on with this?"
"Get on with what?"
"Please tell Milton what steps you have taken vis-a-vis your little problem in Paraguay."